


then i'd taken the kiss of seedcake back from his mouth

by thefudge



Category: Never Have I Ever (TV)
Genre: Character Study, F/M, Lust, POV Male Character, Secret Crush, Yearning, ost: kate bush - the sensual world, this is a pretty soft M-rating btw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-04
Updated: 2020-06-04
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:08:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24545140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thefudge/pseuds/thefudge
Summary: Paxton dreams about Devi.
Relationships: Paxton Hall-Yoshida/Devi Vishwakumar
Comments: 16
Kudos: 138





	then i'd taken the kiss of seedcake back from his mouth

**Author's Note:**

> i said i was going to write for the main couples, so here i am.  
> set somewhere before the kiss (aka 1x08), but i don't know exactly when??  
> anyway, does this lyric from kate bush's "the sensual world" about molly bloom really make sense given that it's Paxton's POV? nope! but i still love it, and it's such a #mood for this fic 
> 
> (also...now that i think about it, paxton really could be molly bloom, but i'm going to save my thoughts for a tumblr post lol)

_mmh, yes_  
_then I'd taken the kiss of seedcake back from his mouth_  
_going deep south, go down, mmh, yes_

_Boys don’t have to talk about their dreams._

His father means well, most days. He probably doesn’t even remember telling his seven-year-old son to stop narrating his dreams. But Paxton remembers. He may be a slow learner, but he takes each lesson to heart. His father was probably busy that day, probably unable to cope with everyone’s demands. There are moments where he catches his dad slowly releasing a breath, because even when you’re an adult the world gets overwhelming. So Paxton understands why his father couldn’t deal with _dreams_ , of all things. But that doesn’t mean he’s gotten any better at opening up.

Rebecca has tried to coax him open and she has gotten further than anyone else, but there are some things he can’t tell even her.

He can’t tell her about some ugly parts of himself. He can’t talk to her about the _dream_. 

Not because she wouldn’t understand, but because it would confirm something for her, something he doesn’t care to admit to anyone.

Also, it’s not exactly PG-13.

No way is he describing it to his baby sister.

In the dream, he’s mindlessly swimming laps.

Head half-submerged, body taut as arrow, cutting joylessly through water.

That’s what’s so startling about the dream; it starts out mundane. He has been here before. He will be here again. Swimming is his one-way ticket to college. He clings to the four sides of the pool. Sometimes, he wishes he did not need to breathe. Most of his dreams are soaked in water.

But halfway through this one, a pair of soft, brown legs pushes him off-course. Another body has plunged into the pool. But it’s not moving. The girl can’t move her legs. She’s going to drown.

Paxton doesn’t pause. He makes it to her in two strokes, wraps his arm around her waist and tugs her upwards. It’s much easier to save someone in a dream. He collapses with her on the blue tiles, faded by so many pairs of feet.

Paxton breathes harshly, looking down at his catch.

Devi is beneath him. She is glistening with pool water and chloramines, black hair thick and twisted around her throat. Brown eyes staring at him calmly, as if he had been the one drowning.

She parts her lips. “My...my legs are broken.”

Paxton hears her voice coming from somewhere inside his skin. He doesn’t like that word.

“They’re not broken,” he rasps. “You just need to give it time.”

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m not a very patient person,” Devi drawls, elongating the word “patient”, half her mouth quirking down in that way that’s so her, he can’t help but smile.

And he feels this itching desire to help her, to be the savior, to _unbreak_ her legs, as stupid as that sounds. Because that would make him okay too, would give him purpose. And that desire is fueled by _another_ desire, because Devi is wearing only her bathing suit - or a bathing suit his mind made up, coral red, soaked through, flesh transparent and tantalizing. Some part of him is ashamed, because he tries to keep his eyes on her face, even as his hand traces drops of water from her waist to her thighs. He loves the texture of her skin, the way it seems to mold and follow his fingers. She’s all his. It’s a weird, definitive statement that should not be part of him, or this dream. But there it is. She’s all his. He draws her thigh up, flush against his own skin.

Devi arches into him slightly. Her eyes are full of warmth.

“See?” he says, a little hoarsely. “Your legs are fine. Just fine. They just need…”

_Me._

Stupid, cocky teenage boy.

But in the dream, it all makes sense. Every need is met. His mouth feels parched, so he drinks. He bends down and kisses the spot under her jaw, licking the drops of water from her skin. Devi throws her head back and hair spills on the tiles and she moans in shock and delight, and it burns him, making him kiss her faster, feverish with thirst, drinking up every drop.

He knows it’s wrong to fantasize about her this way and the guilt makes for a delicious cocktail in his belly. Her legs open for him slowly and lock around his waist and he feels so _good_ about that, because he made it happen, and he kisses down her collarbone, lips grazing the string of her bikini, kissing over the fabric but not daring to undress her, only taking what he’s allowed to take, her belly trembling against his lips, a feeling of being powerful, like cutting through water.

He kisses the inside of her thigh and feels the warmth thrumming there, and it is intoxicating being this close to everything, everything he doesn't understand. His head between her thighs, half-submerged. He’d love to swim laps.

“Your legs are perfect,” he murmurs.

Devi’s hand is suddenly in his hair, nails digging into his scalp, tugging, telling him where to go, and he’s going to listen, he's going to fucking _swim_ and –

He wakes up.

Tangled sheets.

Guilty sweat. Cock stirring helplessly.

He touches himself, desperate to stay inside the pool, coming fast before he realizes he’s not dreaming anymore.

And it wouldn’t be such a problem if it only happened once.

But it’s the third time in a row he’s dreamed of Devi Vishwakumar’s legs around his waist. 

That’s why he avoids her like the plague at school.

That's why he can't face her. 

Devi is confused. He seemed friendly before, almost different. Almost vulnerable. Why is he back to his “cool guy” persona? Why is he being politely dismissive? Why won’t he smile back at her in class? Why does he not look her in the eye? Was it all in her head? What happened?

Paxton brushes past her in the hallway and the proximity makes his stomach flip. He’s terrified she’ll know. Devi always seems to know.

She walks past his corner in her tight little shorts and he can’t help but stare at her legs, staring until someone notices (but no one does), and it’s not even lust, or not _just_ lust.

It’s all the things he can’t say to himself.

Rebecca was right. Maybe he is a coward.

He stares at his phone, fingers hovering over the keys.

The clock reads 3:45 AM.

He’s been staring at the words for hours.

_I can’t stop dreaming about you._

He doesn't heed his father's lesson.

He hits send.

And goes back to dreaming. 


End file.
